


isn't love based on devotion

by maisy_daisy



Series: all i've got left is my pulse [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Aftercare, Blood Drinking, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Vampire Sex, Vampires, literally just vampire smut, the first time Andrew and Kevin drank from neil, theyre in love!!! idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maisy_daisy/pseuds/maisy_daisy
Summary: “Why not?” Neil demanded. “I must be better than whatever crap you buy from Aaron.”Kevin sat down his cup and laced his fingers together gingerly. “I’m not sure I’d call Red Cross’ blood supply crap, Neil.”“And I’m sure you’re wrong.”or, in which Kevin and Andrew are vampires, and Neil is on a mission to convince them just how much he wants them to feed from him. When nothing else does the trick, accidentally-almost-dying might. Neil just has to survive the day first.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day/Neil Josten, Kevin Day/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: all i've got left is my pulse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061090
Comments: 20
Kudos: 185





	isn't love based on devotion

**Author's Note:**

> so i started writing this months ago, forgot about it, then rewrote it in two days after stumbling back on it. ngl, this straight up smut and feelings *insert mediocre joke that this isn’t straight* anyways. this is the second installment in the p w/p kandreil installment im writing. the 2nd part (this one) takes place chronologically *before* the first installment, but u can read each part in any order and it still make sense. the third part im planning to write will be about how kevin and andrew met neil in this universe and got together, so if u liked these installments and would like that third part lmk!! disclaimer, ik this is cheesy and not completely in character. my au my rules :) isn’t that the beauty of fic writing? 
> 
> cw: there’s a brief violent scene where a character sustains an injury to the wrist, not self inflicted. canon typical mention of scars; brief mention of body-image insecurities; brief background info on vampire society that includes enslaving humans; also kevin and andrew are vampires and engage in feeding in a slightly kinky way so be aware of that. obviously plz always practice safe sex and use condoms, vampires dont get std’s in this very fictional universe so they get a pass, us humans do not !!!! ok ty toodles
> 
> happy holidays to all who celebrate!!

The first time Neil offered himself, Andrew dropped his knife.

The blonde had been in the middle of preparing dinner for Neil. A charcuterie board arranged with seasonable fruits and cheeses and the most select cuts of meat Coscto could provide adorned the wooden slab in front of him. He’d been about to slice one last piece of salami before he heard Neil’s voice behind him, suggesting—

“No.”

Andrew retrieved his carving knife from the marble counter where it had skid as if nothing had happened. He didn’t even bother looking over his shoulder to say, as if his answer needed clarification, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Neil demanded. He looked between Andrew and Kevin, where the latter sat stock still with wide eyes at the kitchen island sipping coffee. “I must be better than whatever crap you buy from Aaron.”

Kevin sat down his cup and laced his fingers together gingerly as if this was a rare subject he wasn’t comfortable to approach. “I’m not sure I’d call Red Cross’ blood supply _crap_ , Neil.”

“And I’m sure you’re wrong.” Neil rolled his eyes before narrowing them. “What I’m not sure about is why you even drink coffee, but here we are.”

Crimson red irises flashed briefly from where Andrew cleaned the serrated edges of his knife, slicing job finished. “We are not feeding from you,” he told Neil flatly, “and that’s final.”

Neil’s nostrils flared but when Andrew shoved a piece of gouda at his face, he relented and let Andrew shove the snack in his mouth. Then, because he couldn’t quite help himself, he bit Andrew’s finger, which won him a kick to the knee. Kevin smirked and went back to his coffee.

But it wasn’t final. Not if Neil had any say. And hell if Neil knew how to work his mouth.

Because the second time Neil offered himself, Kevin almost came.

“Fucking—damn it, Neil.”

Neil rocked his hips lightly from where he lay nestled in Kevin’s arms, sliding further onto Kevin’s cock. “Is that a yes?” he asked, near breathless and trying (failing) not to show it.

Kevin groaned but nipped lightly at the skin on Neil’s jaw. “No.” He kissed the corner of Neil’s frown away. “I’m not biting you, love.”

“But why not?” Neil didn’t want to pout. He wasn’t a _pouter_ , for fuck’s sake. He glared instead, which, in all honesty, was ruthless enough to leave any normal human cowering. But Kevin wasn’t normal nor human, so go figure.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Kevin said simply. He smoothed a hand through Neil’s wild curls and ignored the ache in his cock because _damn_ , hearing, _You can drink from me,_ from Neil’s pretty, blasphemous lips was really just unfair.

“You won’t,” Neil said. He licked his lips and fucked himself slowly on Kevin, drawing a low shudder from the vampire. It really was a low move. Riding had always been their favorite position. Kevin felt his fangs itching to release at the sensation but he willed them back. “And even if you did,” Neil continued, “I can handle it. I’m not fucking helpless.” Neil’s eyes blazed glacier. “I want you to have me. All of me. You and Andrew both.”

Andrew scoffed from where he sat on the opposite couch in their first floor parlor. He didn’t look up from his sudoku puzzle when he said, “Not discussing this right now.”

“Why?” Neil fluttered his lashes mockingly over his shoulder which did not suit his stature. Kevin laughed. “Because you’re hard?”

Andrew scribbled down a two where it absolutely did not belong. “Sure, Neil.”

Then Kevin grabbed Neil’s hips and picked him up in one full swoop to deposit their prey over Andrew’s lap. But instead of scrounging for blood, Kevin just fucked Neil raw while Andrew grumbled a half-assed complaint about his sudoko puzzle lost under Neil’s head.

They didn’t accept Neil’s offer, but at least that time it wasn’t a no. (Or maybe it was. Neil was never good at listening). So Neil had hope.

The third time Neil offered his blood, the gods were in his favor.

Because Andrew and Kevin were dying.

Sure, they’d already died once. But that’s just semantics. This time, Andrew and Kevin were actually dying, as any vampire can fall into the annoying habit of.

They’d (stupidly) forgotten to stock up on blood packs.

You’d think being undead for a couple centuries would make you smarter. Help you learn from your mistakes, at the very least. But this is Kevin goddamn Day and Andrew god help me Minyard we’re talking about here.

So, naturally, there was an unfortunate case of miscommunication. According to Andrew, it was Kevin’s turn to drive by the blood bank that Aaron volunteered at to pick up their next week’s supply. Kevin thought it was Andrew’s turn to do so, and the blood never made it to its intended home.

In reality, it was actually _Neil’s_ turn and, like the ever-living bastard he is, didn’t own up to his mistake.

But if you know Neil, which unfortunately Andrew and Kevin very well did, they knew Neil didn’t _actually_ forget when they connected the dots.

Neil knew exactly what he was doing.

It wouldn’t have been a problem if they’d missed their pick up date any other day. But this day just so happened to be the weekend before Christmas, which meant the bank would be closed for the entire week. If Andrew and Kevin had been _really_ desperate, they could have made the six hour trip to the official state blood bank—the one which _did_ stay open during the holidays.

And they very damn well were that desperate. Vampires can only manage a few days at most without blood before turning feral. That is, unrestrained. Not in control of their actions. Deprive a vampire long enough of blood and soon the need for blood overpowers all reason, all thought, all emotion.

If Andrew and Kevin didn’t remain strict to their feeding schedule of donated blood, devil knows the type of beasts they’d turn into.

So they gave Neil a stern lecture and told him not to lose their cats or set the manor on fire, or lose the manor or set the cats on fire, before heading toward Andrew’s Maserati.

Andrew’s Maserati.

That had tears.

In all four tires.

Andrew froze in front of his car.

He dropped his keys.

He blinked. Once.

“Kevin,” Andrew said.

“Hmm?” Kevin was looking down at his phone. He hadn’t seen the tires yet.

_“Kevin.”_

“What—Oh.”

Andrew turned toward the manor where Neil was safely tucked away. For now. “I am going to commit murder.”

“Andrew—“ Before Andrew could make true on his promise, Kevin hurried back toward the front entrance where Andrew was busy storming off to. “Andrew, stop.”

“He fucked with my car.”

“Technically, it was the tires, not—“

“He fucked with the supply schedule, he fucked with my car—“ Andrew threw his hands out. “What’s next? My _cats_? I’ll kill him.”

“Okay, hold on.” Kevin put his hands up. “First of all, those are _our_ cats. Second, we’re partly to blame for the blood fiasco.” He winkled his nose. “That sounded better in my head. Anyway. Third, you’re not killing Neil no matter how annoying he is.”

“Why not?”

“We like Neil,” Kevin reasoned. “We care about him.” He paused. “Even when he’s being a little shit.”

Andrew’s eye twitched. Behind him, Kevin could see Neil’s head peeking from the first floor parlor’s curtain. When Neil realized Kevin saw him, he quickly disappeared from sight.

“Come on, Kevin,” Andrew goaded. “It’d be a win-win. We’d get blood, he’d get that fucking bite he’s obsessed with, and Sir and King will be okay.”

“I’m starting to think this is really just about the cats,” Kevin muttered. He sighed. “You really hate the thought of leaving Neil alone with them, don’t you?”

Andrew shrugged, but the crimson glow that had taken over his irises started to fade. “He can barely keep himself alive. Giving him two other responsibilities would just be cruel.”

“To the cats,” they said in unison. Kevin sighed again.

“Okay, fine. We don’t leave. I’ll call a repair guy about the tires.” Kevin rubbed his jaw. “But what the fuck do we do about the blood?”

As if on cue, Neil poked his head out from the front door’s entrance. His auburn hair blended almost perfectly with the cherry oak. “I can help with that.”

“Murder,” Andrew said, spinning around. Neil met the bloodlust in Andrew’s eyes with his own chaotic grin. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Uh oh.” Neil swung the door shut, his laugh echoing throughout the main hall as Kevin chased after Andrew chasing after Neil.

In the end, Andrew didn’t murder Neil. Kevin was unfortunately correct that he and Andrew did, in fact, care about Neil staying alive. Feelings could be annoying like that.

“Sorry about the tires,” Neil lied. Everyone knew he didn’t mean it, but he wasn’t making matters better by practically vibrating with triumph. “But I’m not letting you drive half a state over just to get something you already have.”

“We settled this already, Neil.” Andrew cupped Neil’s jaw with his hand, gaze burning into Neil’s. “It’s a no.”

“When it shouldn’t be,” Neil argued. He rolled his eyes, batting Andrew’s hand away and looking to Kevin for assistance. “Stop treating me like I’m fragile.”  
  
Andrew closed his eyes. “I _never_ said—“

“You don’t have to say something to mean it.” Neil stood up from the couch he’d been sitting on and began stalking toward the entrance to the kitchen. They followed behind him without question, Andrew glaring at anything in the near vicinity. “You two saved my fucking life. You gave me a place to stay—“ Neil suddenly stopped walking and whirled to face the pair. “You gave me a _home._ You gave me my fucking life back. Do you really, honestly believe you’re just going to flip a switch and hurt me? Because I don’t. Not for a second.”

“Neil, you…” Kevin was the first to close the distance between them. Curling a hand around Neil’s nape and tilting Neil’s chin up with the other, he waited a slight second for Neil’s nod before leaning down and placing a chaste kiss to Neil’s lips. “You have to understand where we’re coming from,” he finished gently.

“I _do_ ,” Neil said. “I do, but you have to understand you’re wrong. You’re not going to break me, or scare me, or any other shit.” He closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against Kevin’s chest. Andrew continued staring stubbornly at the wooden floor. “Let me do something for you for once.”

Kevin rubbed small circles into Neil’s back while Andrew gathered his thoughts. They all knew Kevin’s thoughts on the matter by now. Kevin had expressed his openness to the idea before, but always reminded Neil that as long as Andrew wasn’t on board, nothing would happen. Either they’d all be agreement, or they’d move on. For lack of better words, the ball was in Andrew’s court now.

After what could’ve been a minute, or five, or thirty (who knew when Neil was busy melting into the shoulder massage Kevin had turned to giving), Andrew said, “There will be rules.”

“Wait, really?” Neil’s head shot up as he looked at Andrew over Kevin’s shoulder. “I didn’t actually think you’d—I mean, of course there’s rules. Like what?”

Andrew huffed a breath and stepped forward. “Not now, junkie. We’ll discuss this later.”

“Why not now?”

“Thanks to you,” Andrew growled, counting off each point on his fingers, “I need to order more tires.” Index. “Call Aaron to drop off blood.” Middle. “And, most importantly, take a nap.” Thumb.

“Vampires don’t need to nap,” Neil pointed out. Kevin’s chest silently shook from laughter when he replied, “They do when they babysit a man child twenty-four-seven.”

_“_ Jackass.”

But the first time they actually accepted Neil’s offer, it was, surprisingly, completely unplanned.

Andrew had told (ordered) Neil and Kevin to give him space the next morning while he drew up limits and boundaries of what feeding from Neil would entail. Neil was more than happy to comply if that meant speeding up the process, and dragged Kevin out to their sprawling three acre backyard for some downtime. It had been like any other December day in South Carolina: sheets of sparkling snow as far as the eye could see, morning sun that forced Kevin and Andrew to practically bathe in sunscreen. A heavy thicket of sticks and stones lay around the manor’s perimeter where normally a thick forest would thrive in the spring.

It was in these barren thickets that Neil screwed up. Kevin and Neil decided to go on a walk through the maze of sticks and stones and various leftover hunting equipment from when poachers trespassed on the property. And even though it meant he ended up getting his way, Neil would easily have opted not to have if it meant going back in time and wiping the horror-stricken look on Kevin’s face when Neil tripped on an unusually gnarly tree root and impaled his wrist on a thorned stake stuck in the ground.

_“Neil!”_

Oh.

That hurt.

“Holy—“

Kevin’s shout was oil on water, barely breaking the surface of Neil’s recognition. He could only choke in shocked pain watching the rivulets of blood flow down his wrist and soak into his once pristine sweater sleeve that now lay in tatters, before finally falling onto the blank snow like paint flooding a canvas.

It…really hurt.

A lot.

Something in the very back of his mind, from perhaps an old biology lecture he’d once picked up, reminded Neil that the radial artery travels through the wrist.

Right where he’d been impaled.

A breech to that artery can have one bleed out in as little as a minute. Two, if you’re lucky. Incredibly enough, Andrew always said Neil was the unluckiest person he knew.

_Hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts—_

Sluggishly, Neil thinks he should be crying. Kevin’s still shouting; for what, Neil doesn’t know. Maybe Andrew. He doesn’t really care. He just wants to cry, but he can’t. People cry when they die, right? Death isn’t a casual affair.

Maybe the cold chose to freeze his tears instead of his blood. Blood’s harder to freeze, Neil also learned that in biology.

There’s so much red. Red everywhere, like the night Kevin and Andrew had found him in that rotting alleyway. But it wasn’t his blood all over him that night; now, it’s his. The red isn’t as pretty coating the snow as Neil thought it’d be. It’s just…two colors, bleeding together.

Pink snow. It’s almost pretty.

Neil’s bleeding together with the snow and the thought makes him laugh. He thinks he’s laughing, but he’s not. His body can’t be bothered to agree with his emotions.

“ _Neil, Neil, you’re okay, it’s going to be okay, you’re_ —“ Kevin keeps talking, crouching next to him, but Neil’s not listening. He hears his blood rushing in his ears like ocean waves, and it reminds him of the waters that washed away the last of his mother’s ashes. Maybe he’ll melt with the snow and wash away to find her. It’s comforting to think.

Everything fucking _hurts_ , damn it—

And then there’s a shadow next to Kevin bending over Neil and whispering something too low for Neil to make out. The waves are louder. The shadow’s picking Neil up—wait, no, not picking him up. Turning him over and wiping Neil’s face. There’s tears on his cheeks after all, or maybe that’s the snow melting already. _See?_ Neil thinks. _Already one step closer to ma-ma._

What he doesn’t know is that it's not melted snow nor his tears falling down his face but the cries of another person, Kevin, begging Neil to stay awake as if desperation alone could order Neil not to die. Neil’s not good at following orders; he tries to tell Kevin as much, but the joke dies in his mind before it ever reaches his lips. He can’t even talk. A whimper falls out, but that’s all. That’s it.

And that’s when the shadow yanks Neil’s wrist off the crimson-soaked stake and Neil couldn’t stop the bloodcurdling scream from escaping his lungs if he tried. If he thought the blood was flowing before it’s gushing now, it’s damn near falling straight out of his body, it’s flooding like the Nile. Now Neil knows he’s crying, no forces in the world could stop it, and his mouth is a bloody mess from where he’s bit through his tongue from the pain.

He’s so gone, lost in the remnants of his broken nerve endings and throbbing veins that he doesn’t even process when the fangs break through yet more skin.

Vampire bites have the power to do great, catastrophic damage. Entire generations have been lost to the blood-fueled greed of just one feeding. But like the truth on one side of a coin, there’s another. Vampire bites can be just as restorative as they are deadly; healing as they are harmful. It’s why some have sold their souls to be the blood-source of vampires, knowing that they’ll always be taken care of in exchange for their freedom. Vampires can regenerate lost skin and limbs, entire organs because of their healing properties. Those properties can be passed on to their prey, too, if they so will it. Not every bite has to hurt. Not every bite has to kill.

Some bites, like Andrew’s as he sinks his fangs into Neil’s already ruined wrist, can even save.

It won’t turn Neil by any means. That would require an entire other process, one of which includes feeding Neil the same blood that passed through Andrew’s veins. This bite will only restore what has been lost, if Andrew hasn’t acted too late. Because you can’t bring back life that’s been stopped.

The pain returns like the crescendo of an opera as Andrew’s fangs throb within Neil’s arm. Kevin’s holding Neil to his chest, peppering him with kisses and curses more hopeful than the next as Neil’s chest starts to rise and fall faster than it’d been moving before.

“Hurts,” Neil croaks. At some point, his body’s decided to start cooperating with his mind again and Kevin could cry in relief. As it is, he’s crying already and his hold becomes tighter around Neil.

“It should,” Andrew says when he pulls away, wiping his bloodstained mouth with the back of his hand. The gesture only helps to smear Neil’s blood around and some gets stuck in Andrew’s hair. “That means your nerves still function.”

“You fucking idiot,” Kevin seethes in Neil’s ear. “I’ll kill you if you ever try something like that again. I’ll fucking rip your throat out.” Which they all know is his way of saying, _I love you, You’re okay, I’m so glad you’re okay. We’re going to be okay._

Neil doesn’t have the strength to answer. He can only watch in exhausted fascination as the skin over his wrist re-grows and connects back together under the tattered remains of his sleeve like the fastest time-lapse in the world. His heart is beating so fast he wonders if he’ll have a heart attack, but whatever Andrew did seems to be working. They stay like that for ages; it could be minutes, it could be years. The snow doesn't affect Kevin nor Andrew, the latter of which is only wearing the jeans and thin sweatshirt he had on when Kevin had screamed his voice hoarse for when Neil had fallen. Thank fuck for vampire super-hearing.

But Neil is still so fragilely human so even with the shock, the cold cuts through his bones, leaving him to shiver in Kevin’s arms. With a start, Kevin unwraps the jacket around his shoulders and bundles it around Neil like a blanket. Neil doesn’t have the energy to protest the coddling either, even though he’d like to give Kevin his mind about being a mother-hen.

When they deem him strong enough to move, Andrew wipes a handful of snow over his mouth to get the rest of the stains off before taking Neil from Kevin’s arms and picking him up. They make the trek back to the manor, Kevin’s too-large-for-Neil jacket almost hiding Neil from view where it’s draped over while Andrew carries him, the only tell-tell signs being Neil’s legs curled around Andrew’s waist. Kevin follows behind, already drawing up detailed plans to torture and kill any poacher that dare come onto their land again and leave implements like what Neil fell on. He knows Andrew would have no qualms about the extra food, but that’s another story.

“I can walk, you know,” Neil says into Andrew’s shoulder at one point. When Kevin points out that they’re already walking up the stone steps to the back entrance, Neil lets the matter go and burrows his head back into juncture between Andrew’s jaw and collarbone.

Andrew doesn’t speak, but if he pulls Neil tighter to his chest, that’s only for them to know.

There’s no way Neil’s leaving Andrew or Kevin’s sight for the rest of the day, that’s for sure. Or decade. Any talk of blood is out of the question for the time being, as far as Andrew’s concerned. He’d have to have been dead—like, literally and completely _unconsciously_ dead—to have been unaware of how _right_ Neil’s blood tasted, but it was and still is the furthest thing from Andrew’s mind compared to the crippling panic he’d experienced at the sight of Neil bleeding out, Kevin unable to stop the flow with his hands.

Andrew hasn’t been so shaken by a sight like that since the first time they found Neil. And before that, not since Aaron and Tilda. He’s so goddamn tired of organizing his life’s memories with the checkpoints of tragedy.

What’s worse is Andrew’s nagging conscience. Before he met Neil, he didn’t have to waste his time on morals and other various annoyances. But the weight of the fact he’s drank Neil’s blood without Neil’s permission is threatening to drag Andrew under, and he can already feel his walls going up.

It’s a ridiculous thought to anyone else. Neil only begged for his vampires to feed from him a hundred times over. But just because someone gives consent once at one particular time doesn’t mean that consent is perpetual. Andrew of all people knows this and yes, while drinking from Neil was necessary on a literal level to save his life, Andrew can’t help but feel… _off_. Guilty. He’s not used to the feeling, and he hates it as much as he can’t push it away. 

When they make it back inside, Andrew brings Neil to their bedroom and deposits their resident invalid on the California king. At Andrew’s direction, Kevin pulls out his phone and calls Aaron. By the time Andrew’s done checking over Neil’s wrist—the skin has near healed over, and only a thick scab where the hunting stake impaled him remains as proof of the injury. It very closely resembles a healing burn wound—and filling a glass up of water for Neil, Kevin’s hung up and tells Andrew that his twin should be at the manor within the hour to check over Neil.

As a human doctor living in a heavily infested supernatural area, Aaron is more than open to help the human population when he can get a chance, even if it’s for someone as lowlife as Neil. Most of the time, Aaron’s just stuck delivering were-babies (Andrew could gag. Werewolves are dirty mutts on their own. Couple that with, shudder, _children_? Oh lord almighty.) or organizing the blood supply Red Cross sends in for the vampires. Even more rare is it to interact with humans in this area of South Carolina.

“Fuck.” The low whisper from the bed draws their attention to a _I’m-so-done-with-this-shit_ looking Neil. Which is one of his go-to expressions. So he must be feeling better already.

“Idiot,” Andrew mutters at the sight of where Neil has spilled the water all over himself. The glass must have slipped out of his hands when he reached for it because now the contents are soaked in his lap and on the sheets.

Kevin sighs and grabs a towel to help. Andrew doesn’t say a word as he leaves the room, using what happened as an excuse while he gets Neil more water to get some space to clear his head. First he had to deal with figuring out what to do about Neil’s blood fixation; now he has to worry about keeping Neil in one piece, Andrew _drinking_ from Neil…and still the blood fixation. Because it's only so much time before Kevin or Neil bring it up.

Also his new tires will take a week to be replaced. Neil’s lucky Andrew hasn’t torn Neil apart himself.

Caring about people is so goddamn annoying.

Aaron, true to his word, arrives before noon. He brought a whole medical bag of supplies and the week’s supply of blood he promised to drop off in an ice chest. He even brought a kit with surgical sutures. Not at all necessary, but ever the perfectionist, Aaron packed for war.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” is the official diagnosis after a thorough two minute exam. Aaron slides his stethoscope around his neck and shrugs.

“That’s it?” Kevin says. “You came all this way just to say he’s fine? Neil could’ve told us that.”

“I’m always fine,” Neil mumbles from the bed, his wrist still being turned over by Aaron as the doctor gives the scab one last glance over.

“Would you rather I declare him terminal?” Aaron shoots back as if Neil hasn’t spoken.

Kevin rolls his eyes. “Oh, bite me.”

“The _irony_ —“

“Andrew bit _me_ ,” Neil adds unhelpfully because he’s little a shit and has to be the center of attention.

And also because Kevin and Andrew specifically told Neil _not_ to tell Aaron that. So naturally, he had to do just the opposite.

Aaron’s head swivels between his brother and Kevin. He drops Neil’s wrist. “What?”

Andrew closes his eyes. That murder option is still not off the table.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Kevin starts.

“You told me he got burned in the _kitchen_ ,” Aaron protests.

“It’s…” Kevin looks to Andrew for help, who’s in the very last frame of mind to consider doing that. “It’s a long story.”

“Not really,” Neil says. “I fell on a stake and started to bleed out. Andrew bit me. He saved me. End of story.”

For all his aloofness, its obvious the shock of the ordeal hasn’t worn off because of how matter-of-fact Neil states everything. He hasn’t been able to fully absorb just how close to dying he’d been, and when that time comes, Kevin and Andrew would be there. Like they’ve always been. Like they always will be.

But to do that, they have to survive Aaron first, who looks ready to use a stake on them himself. He’s always been protective of his fellow humans and, more importantly, anti-Andrew in the way brothers tend to be, so it’s not hard to choose his battle.

“Why. The hell,” Aaron seethes, “do you have _stakes_ just laying around? Are you _stupid_?”

Well, when he puts it like that…Kevin stops mid-nod and shakes his head. “It wasn’t ours. Poachers leave them there to mark ground they’ve crossed. We’ve never seen a need to remove them.”

“Do you see one now?” Aaron wonders, voice dripping with condescension.

“Look, I’m _fine_ ,” Neil groans and waves his hands between them. “You said so yourself. Can I sleep now?”

Aaron sighs but finally relents. He prescribes some antibiotics just for ease of mind but doesn’t leave until he’s said his piece to the pair of vampires. Something _if you dare drain him_ this, and _I’ll stake you two myself_ that. Yawn. Andrew isn’t really listening. He’s too busy soaking in the sight of Neil _whole_ and _okay,_ and burying his own guilt.

What if he hadn’t stopped drinking in time? What if he hadn’t pulled away?

What if he can’t stop wanting more?

Once Andrew promises to Venmo Aaron for the check-up and blood and succeeds in shoving Aaron out the house, he slams the door shut with a bang and leans against the furnished wood. He feels his fangs itching underneath his skin for entirely other reasons than hunger: doubt. Concern.

He lets Neil have his peace for a couple hours to nap. When he returns to the bedroom sometime later, he finds Kevin curled up in bed with Neil, Neil’s head on Kevin’s chest while Kevin rubs circles into Neil’s skin. It’s been a long day/night for them. They’re usually resting by now while Neil sleeps during the day and they don’t truly get up until sunset. Andrew sets down a refilled glass of water on the nightstand and sits at the foot of the bed. To his surprise, Neil’s awake, blinking sleepily at him from where he’s in Kevin’s arms.

“Are you lightheaded?”

Aaron’s an idiot. Andrew would stake himself first before he even considered draining Neil even half-way.

“Not anymore,” Neil mutters into Kevin’s chest. “Just tired.”

“Neil.” Andrew has to know. He can’t deal with the guilt.

“I’m fine, Andrew,” Neil insists. He doesn’t sound like he’s lying, but it’s not enough.

Andrew has to look away, because if he stares at Neil’s pale face any longer he might combust. It’s only when he’s about to stand up and escape to some other corner of the house that he feels the bed shift and then there’s a hand in front of Andrew’s face. Neil’s.

“Hold me?” Neil asks, brows quirking.

Andrew wonders how Neil could stand the sight of him. Hasn’t Andrew taken enough? Been selfish enough?

“It’s okay if it’s no.” Neil starts to lean back but apparently Andrew was wrong. He hasn’t been selfish enough because he reaches his hand out and pulls Neil to him.

Neil doesn’t seem to mind. He sighs audibly when Andrew’s arms envelop his shoulders and shudders pleasantly when Andrew ghosts a kiss to Neil’s temple.

“Are you mad at me?” Neil asks.

Kevin’s stood up to go grab something—food, Andrew thinks he heard, but he knows Kevin’s just being considerate for them to talk. But it’s hard to focus on that when he hears Neil’s question, too confused to be apprehensive.

“Why would I be mad?”

Neil shrugs, and Andrew feels the rise and fall of Neil’s shoulders against his chest. It’s comforting. “I know you, ‘drew. I know your moods. You just seem mad.”

From the sound of his voice, Neil doesn’t sound particularly worried about the possibility. Just curious. But Andrew knows Neil like Neil claims to know Andrew, and the blonde can tell Neil cares about the answer.

“Not at you,” Andrew finally states, pushing a fallen lock of hair behind Neil’s ear. It’s gotten long over the winter and Neil hasn’t yet found any reason to get rid of it. Especially not when it gives Andrew and Kevin something to pull when they need to get Neil’s attention.

“Who, then?”

Andrew doesn’t answer at first, which says enough. When Neil starts to sit up, Andrew lets his hands fall away and looks at the wall.

“Andrew? Who are you mad at?”

They really need to re-paint the room. The navy walls have chipped in some places, scratched away in others from when they’ve knocked furniture over it, or clawed for purchase during more spontaneous rounds of sex. Kevin’s been liking a nasty shade of lavender lately, though…

“ _Andrew.”_

“Myself,” Andrew grits out. He regrets doing so the second it’s out if Neil’s expression isn’t enough. He steels himself for Neil’s confirmation, that _damn right_ Andrew should feel guilty. For the accusation. For the hurt. For the…

No, that’s worse than everything else. The thought of Neil being truly, genuinely afraid of Andrew is enough to kill Andrew all over again.

“You’re fucking stupid,” Neil says instead, before scoffing in frustration.

And isn’t that the furthest thing Andrew’s expecting. He narrows his eyes at Neil. “What?”

“Don’t tell me.” Neil puts his face in his hands. “For the love of fuck, do not tell me you’re beating yourself up about earlier. Because I swear to living hell, if that’s what this—“

“You didn’t say yes.”

Andrew’s quiet interruption shuts Neil up quickly. The annoyed yet amused expression on Neil’s face quickly fades when he sees the conflict in Andrew’s eyes. “What?”

“I tried telling you.” Andrew stares at the base of Neil’s sweater, not able to meet his human’s eyes. “When you…I was warning you. That I needed to bite. To stop the bleeding.”

“I needed a _yes_ ,” Andrew continues lowly. “But you couldn’t…You didn’t hear me.”

“I was going to die,” Neil whispers, and when Andrew meets his broken expression, he feels the pieces of his dormant heart quake at the sight. “I think that calls for an exception.”

Andrew sighs. Neil knows how Andrew works, but that doesn’t make him any easier to agree with. “I could have killed you.”

“Could,” Neil repeats. “Key word. You could kill me any day, and you sure as hell don’t need to drink from me to do that.” He inhales a breath as if preparing himself for something and says, “Anyone, any random person on the street could kill me. That’s been my life for years. That’s life now, too, because demons don’t just turn away and hide.”

“But you’re not that demon. You never hurt me, and you won’t.” Neil leans forward and, seeing that Andrew isn’t pulling away, rests his head down onto Andrew’s lap. After a careful moment, Andrew lifts a hand and cards it through Neil’s hair.

Neil hums and says, “Don’t treat me like I’m fragile, Andrew. Treat me like I’m your’s, and Kevin’s.”

Andrew can’t stand it anymore. “You _are_.”

Neil stills for a moment before tugging at Andrew’s shirt. “Then show me.”

Andrew swallows before complying with Neil’s demands to pull off his shirt and throw it to the side. Neil lifts himself up once more, but this time to straddle Andrew rather than to pull away. Pupils darkening without conscious control, Andrew guides Neil’s hands to his chest and Neil takes the opportunity to draw his index around Andrew’s left nipple, pulling a shudder from the man.

Andrew starts to lean forward to kiss Neil but Neil stops the motion with his hands to Andrew’s shoulders and repeats, _“Show me.”_

“Hey, the cats are fed— _oh_.” Kevin freezes in the door way, head cocking at the sight. “Really? I left for two minutes. How does this always happen?”

“Mmm.” Neil doesn’t look away from Andrew. “Prove to me that I’m yours, Andrew,” he says to him, laying his forehead against the blonde’s. Behind him he can hear Kevin closing the door and making his way to join them. Neil shivers when he feels Kevin sidle up behind him, chest to back. “Bite me again.”

“Neil…”

When Andrew takes too long to answer, another thought occurs to Neil that he’d never considered before until now. But it’s too late to stop the frost glazing over and he can’t help but feel the crystals of ice that shoot through his veins at it.

“Unless you don’t want me,” Neil whispers. He lets his gaze drops. Now that he says it out loud, the realization seems obvious. Andrew always knows what he wants and what he doesn’t. He’s not like Neil, he goes after what he wants with much less words. Besides, Andrew already had a taste of Neil, and he’s obviously not dying for more. Maybe Neil’s blood isn’t good enough. It’s not like Neil’s ever been enough for someone before, so is this really a surprise?—

“Stop.” Andrew’s voice cuts through Neil’s spiraling thoughts. When Andrew’s hand finds its way under Neil’s chin to lift Neil’s gaze back up, Neil has to blink away the rising emotion that he can’t even be good enough for the two people he cares about. “I can hear you thinking from here. It’s annoying. And not true.”

“Of course we want you, darling,” Kevin murmurs in Neil’s ear. His hand slides down Neil’s neck towards his shoulders and Neil leans into the touch. “But you have to understand where we’re coming from. Feeding from you directly is much more different than from a bag.”

“ _Why_?” Neil demands.

“A bag doesn’t have a heartbeat,” Kevin says before nipping at Neil’s ear. “And you can’t be drained.”

Neil crosses his arms. “Bullshit. You’re the most self-controlled assholes I’ve ever met. You know you won’t drain me. You didn’t today,” he directs the last at Andrew.

“Today,” Andrew repeats. “But that does not guarantee tomorrow.”

_“I’m_ not guaranteed tomorrow.”

Neil can’t hold it back anymore. He tried too, he really did. But it’s so goddamn impossible with Andrew and Kevin treating him like he’s some glass doll about to break. With a groan it all comes pouring out in a wave: his doubts, his frustrations, his hurt. And it’s with that release Andrew realizes too late what Neil’s really scared of. Not Andrew or Kevin.

Losing them.

“You know, I get it,” Neil’s voice cuts like glass, sharp and shaky and so damned _hurt_. “Being raised from the dead must be really, really difficult for you. Used to being immortal, never so goddamn _human_ like I am.” He spits the word out, venomous. “Not a single person in your family who isn’t secretly terrified of you. Must be rough. But it gets old, actually. I know you’re physically incapable of hurting an innocent, no matter how fucking terrible you want people to think you are. I don’t buy it, Andrew. I don’t. You’ve never hurt me. Not once.”

Neil scrapes a hand over his face, tense muscles straining to relax under Kevin’s constant touch to ground him.“And so what if you will? I’d rather it’s you who cuts me down than the next ghoul on the street. I’m not getting any younger, okay? So if this is really just about you trying to _protect_ me—“ Neil shakes his head—“then maybe I should just leave and save you the trouble. Because obviously you think I can’t protect myself.”

_“Neil.”_

Kevin’s gasp behind him comes just in time to his hands freezing where they are on Neil’s back. But the worst part of the whole thing isn’t how lonely Neil suddenly feels despite the fact he’s between the two most important men he’ll ever know, ever _wants_ to know. No, the worst part is that for a moment, it dawns on him like tongues of fire licking at his throat that maybe he’s about to feel this way for the rest of his life. Because Andrew’s never looked so vacant, and Neil’s starting to realize that he’s going to get what he suggested: they’re going to make him leave, and it’s going to be worse than dying.

He doesn’t think he could bear it.

And even though it breaks his heart like a bullet to a vase, Neil can’t stop himself from continuing. “It’s not even about the blood, ‘drew. If you really don’t want to, fine. Really, I’ll respect that. It’s just the fact that ever since we met, you and Kevin treat me like I’m going to break when it comes to feeding. Like you don’t trust that I can make that decision for myself.”

It’s so quiet in the room when Neil stops talking that he’s uncomfortably aware of his own breathing. He’s the only being in the room that needs to, and it sounds loud even to his own ears. Andrew and Kevin don’t speak for a moment, mulling over Neil’s words, until Neil can’t handle the uncertainty.

Speaking so quietly only a vampire could hear, he says—not as a warning but as a genuine need to know—“Do you want me to leave?”

Maybe miracles do exist, because the empty expression in Andrew’s eyes suddenly floods over like a tap unleashed and he’s saying _No_ like the thought itself is lethal and Kevin’s repeating the word, arms curling into the safest vise around Neil that Neil’s ever known and Neil thinks he’s never been more relieved in his life, not even when he’d escaped his father, as he is now.

“You are _staying_ ,” Andrew states like an order and Neil can’t think of a world where he wouldn’t obey.

“We won’t let you go,” Kevin promises. “You’re our’s.” He kisses Neil’s shoulder, his jaw, the nape of his neck. It’s a violently tender gesture, and Neil prays he never forgets the feeling of Kevin’s lips on his skin. “Even if you wanted to leave,” he tries joking, “we’d keep you.”

But Neil’s not laughing because he craves it more than anything. “Promise?”

“One hundred,” Andrew says quietly, finally finding purchase with his lips on Neil’s, “and fifty percent.”

Neil returns the kiss with relish, hands reaching behind for Kevin at the same time. Andrew doesn’t seem to mind the salty tears mingling with teeth and tongue, and at one point he pulls away to kiss each eyelid, hands cradling Neil’s face like Neil’d lose his head if he doesn’t.

When Neil opens his eyes, Andrew’s gazing at Neil with a sort of reverence Neil knows he doesn’t deserve. “Andrew?”

“Yes or no, Neil.” Andrew’s tone is more serious than Neil’s ever heard it, and it doesn’t take more than a second for Neil to understand. But even then, it hurts to hope.

“You know it’s yes,” Neil breathes, squeezing Kevin’s hands from where they lay clasped on his sternum and urging him to hug Neil tighter from behind. “Both of you, yes.”

Andrew’s eyes find Kevin’s and whatever he finds in Kevin’s gaze solidifies his decision. “Lay against the headboard, Kevin. Neil, in front of him.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice. With one final, encouraging squeeze of his hands around Neil’s, Kevin leans down to accept Andrew’s kiss before getting onto the bed and sliding into position. Neil climbs off Andrew and situates himself between Kevin’s legs, shuddering involuntarily when he feels how Kevin’s hard behind him. Kevin, shameless as ever, feels Neil’s reaction and slides his arms back around his human to pull him closer, grinding them together. Neil has to stifle a moan.

“What did we say, Neil?” Kevin whispers and licks the bead of sweat at Neil’s temple. “Your our’s. That means you can’t hide from us. We want to hear you.”

Then Kevin slides his hand under Neil’s waistband and Neil would have to be gagged to have muffled the sound that escapes him.

“I do not remember,” Andrew says, watching them with heated eyes from the foot of the bed, “saying you could play yet.”

“You never said not to,” Kevin points out. He teases Neil’s cock in his jeans, running the pad of his index through the slit and spreading Neil’s pre-cum up around for good measure. Neil gasps before throwing his head back against Kevin’s chest and parting his legs further. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”

“Not pretty,” Neil tries arguing just to be contrary, but then Kevin’s shoving two fingers in his mouth with the hand not teasing Neil’s cock and Neil can’t do anything but obey the unspoken command. He sucks the digits like the good slut he can be, the good slut he _wants_ to be for Andrew and Kevin. Rolling his tongue around Kevin’s fingers, he makes sure to be as sloppy and sincere as he would if it were a cock in his mouth, wanting to please.

Maybe if he’s good, they’ll reward him. Maybe if he’s good, they’ll bite him.

“Enough.” The one syllable is all Andrew needs to halt their fun. Kevin draws his hands back, leaving Neil hard and needier than ever. But when he goes to touch himself and finish the job himself, Kevin’s hands are back to pull Neil’s away, restrained—though not trapped—at Neil’s sides. And even with the restrictive grip, Neil can tell that Kevin’s being careful with Neil’s wrist, the one that was injured.

_“Kevin,”_ Neil groans.

“No, Neil.” Andrew stands, mouth thin but eyes crimson, just as turned on as his men. His hands reach for his jeans and he undoes the buttons ever slowly. Not an exhibitionist, but not oblivious to the effect he has on Kevin and Neil either, who watch his pants fall to the floor like their lives depend on it. “If you want us to feed from you so bad, you will do it our way.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Neil breathes.

Oh, oh, oh. His heart’s racing like it’ll burst any second, Andrew’s words playing like a broken record again and again in his head.

_“If you want us to feed from you. If you want us to feed from you. If you want us to feed from you.”_

Before, Neil was so adamant that he was fine with being fed from on principle alone. He cared about Andrew and Kevin more than he’d ever cared for anything before. It felt only right that he offer himself in a way that was proportional to the gifts they granted him. Not for the sake of feeling like he owed them anything, but for the sake of wanting to give himself so freely, so purely. So wholly.

But it’s only now that Neil’s realizing a deeper, more primal need that comes with this offer. One that’s been hidden under his psyche, that he wasn’t aware of before.

He never realized how much of a fucking _turn on_ it would be to be the one Andrew and Kevin drank from. He didn’t even realize that could be possible, to become so— _overwhelmed_ —by just the thought.

Oh, but it’s more than possible, he’s now understanding. Even with his hands at his side, Neil shakes with the knowledge that he’s become rock hard right then and there at Andrew’s words. And when Andrew takes in the full body shudder that overcomes Neil and Neil’s slack jaw, Neil sees that Andrew also realizes what almost happened to.

“Dirty slut,” Andrew murmurs. He steps out of his jeans and stalks over to Neil, who just shakes out some incoherent jumble of agreement.

“He needs it,” Kevin hums. “Isn’t that right, love? You could come at just the thought of Andrew feeding on you.”  
  
“Kevin, I…” Neil shudders again, twisting fruitlessly in Kevin’s grasp. “Fuck, I can’t. I can’t. It’s too much—“

“We haven’t even started,” Andrew drawls. “It’s a shame. Kevin?”

Kevin sees the fiery glow in Andrew’s gaze that mirrors his own and Kevin grins, wicked. _My queen of hearts,_ Neil had once joked. But he wasn’t half wrong. Neil’s about to learn just who’s running the show exactly.

And it’s certainly not Neil.

“Get it,” Kevin whispers so his breath tickles Neil’s ear. But the statement is for Andrew, who nods once and opens the nightstand drawer. Grabbing the necessary items, Andrew throwsthe bottle of lube to the side for later and holds up the other object in his hand for Neil to see, who can only whimper in apprehension, or want. Or both.

“No,” Neil says so sadly it must be sincere, but it’s not his safe word. Neil must have an idea about what Andrew’s thinking though because he follows it up with, “Fine.”

It’s not enough. Not yet. “Safeword, Neil?” Andrew presses. Kevin kisses the side of Neil’s head in encouragement.

“Not-not using it,” Neil says, though he leans even further back into Kevin’s hold as if he can escape the cock ring Andrew’s going to put on him. “Do it. I’m your’s.”

Andrew’s going to have to stop teasing Neil about almost coming at mere statements because _fuck_ if that line alone gives Andrew a sudden rush.

“Good boy,” Kevin praises lowly and Neil flushes even darker, teeth biting determinedly into his lower lip. Kevin doesn’t miss what Neil’s trying to do though. “Hey. What did we say about hiding?” He slides his hand under Neil’s sweater and it’s only a second later Neil’s crying out, squirming with all his strength to get free of the fingers twisting his nipples. And he’s impossibly harder than ever, if the straining bulge in Neil’s jeans is any indication. Even Andrew has to cover a wince because there’s no way that restriction on Neil’s cock can be comfortable.

“Better,” Kevin says, satisfied. “Now we can hear you.”

And people like to say Andrew’s the cruel one. Kevin could be pure sadistic with Neil when given the proper reigns, and Neil wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if Neil spends half his energy cursing Kevin out…when he’s not gagged, that is.

“Fuck you,” Neil inhales a harsh breath, “so much.”

Andrew does, surprisingly, know what mercy is and decides to grant Neil some by undoing Neil’s zipper and sliding his jeans off his legs. Neil’s next curse is one of relief, shaking into Kevin’s chest at the sensation of no longer being so constricted.

Though it won’t last long, because Andrew hasn’t forgotten about the cock ring. Not that they actually would because they all know how dangerous and painful it could be, but the mere thought that they might slide that damn thing on him with his aching erection is enough to make him begin to soften. Not completely, but enough to do the job and actually make it possible for Andrew to slide the ring to Neil’s base safely and effectively, which the vampire does after lubing Neil’s cock up.

What Neil didn’t notice before, in his agitation, was the small black plug connected to the base of the ring. Andrew coats a generous amount of lube to the narrow point before spreading it down the flared end. The rest he teases at Neil’s opening, drawing an impossible to cover moan from Neil when he circles Neil’s ass with the cool lube. Kevin works on taking Neil’s sweater off and ignores his own clothes for now while Andrew taps the narrow end of the plug against Neil’s hole, earning a shaky plea in the form of Andrew’s name.

“Andrew’s going to fuck you, love,” Kevin says like a promise, as nasty as a prayer. “And then we’re going to feed. Is that what you want?”

Neil’s back arches when Andrew breaches him with one lube-coated finger, working his way to two. “That’s what I’ve been fucking begging you for, god _damn_ —“ he cuts off to the sound of Kevin’s chuckle when Andrew’s fingers leave him, immediately replaced with the tapered head of the plug. “An-Andrew, _shit_."

With the lube and preparation, the plug slides in with only some effort. It’s not too big, large enough to feel but too small to get off on. Basically, torture.

“Sadists,” Neil grits out, trying to rock back further onto the plug. Andrew smirks at Neil’s shameless desperation.

“Kevin’s going to let go of you,” Andrew says lowly, “and you’re going to keep your hands at your sides. Understood?” He traces his hand up Neil’s once again throbbing cock, now supported by the ring and encouraged by the plug.

“Y-yeah,” Neil complies. Though he doesn’t know if it’ll last. He really doesn’t have any self-control. “No touching. Got it.”

Andrew huffs his version of a laugh, much more visibly relaxed with the day’s turn of events now that he sees for himself how much Neil actually wants it. “Let him go, Kevin.”

Kevin obeys and doesn’t bother hiding his laugh when it becomes clear how much Neil isn’t going to be able to follow directions. Sighing, Andrew pins Neil’s good wrist to the bed and holds the healing one in his hand when he leans over Neil to capture Kevin in an all consuming kiss.

“I have an idea,” Kevin says when Andrew pulls away to bite at Kevin’s jaw.

“Oh god forbid,” Neil groans.

Kevin flicks his cheek without looking away from Andrew. “Fuck me first and make him watch. Let him save his energy. He’ll need it.”

If Andrew’s gaze could darken anymore, it’d become slaughter incarnate. Neil chokes back another cry, this time as on board as he is desperate to get off. He thrusts his hips up as if it’ll help him find friction, wherever that may be, but it’s no use. Then he’s being lifted off Kevin so Kevin can tear off his clothes before he’s laid on the sheets next to where Andrew leans over Day, eyes communicating as much quiet affection as his touch running over Kevin’s body does.

Neil’s never been able to handle true restraints. Handcuffs, ropes, etcetera have always been too reminiscent of the trauma Neil underwent at the hands of his father’s ghouls. Andrew and Kevin know this and would never think to tie Neil’s hands or feet, which is why Andrew uses his other, more effective method to make sure Neil doesn’t disobey and touch himself:

“You can kiss coming or us feeding from you goodbye if you so much as touch that pretty cock of your’s. And don’t think for a second that you’re getting off until I’m inside you.”

Andrew, a man of few words. But fuck if he knows how to use them when he gets going. Neil curses but nods his head, aware that Andrew’s more than serious. There’s a word on the tip of Neil’s tongue, but he shuts his mouth and tries to focus on the sight in front of him, morebeautiful than all the glory of the Louvre combined. Andrew leaning over Kevin, arms supporting him up on either side of Kevin’s face, the latter watching his partner with the same look of adoration reserved for the sacraments.

“How do you want me?” Kevin asks, trust and desire caressing every syllable.

Andrew considers for a moment before saying, “Stomach. Hands on knees.”

Kevin’s groan of pleasure rings with Neil’s and Andrew sits up for Kevin to turn over. Day’s thighs tremble as he bares himself before the first person of his trinity, muscles clenching where he gets himself in position.

“Andrew,” Neil pleads at the sight. He can’t stay still. There’s no way.

“Plug,” Andrew concedes, opening the bottle of lube and squirting more than necessary onto his hands. “That’s it.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Neil pants. He’s already reaching for the base of the plug before Andrew’s done talking, and Andrew snorts before kissing Neil’s knee where it’s bent up in the air for Neil to reach his ass better.

“Kevin,” Andrew says when he pauses with his first finger on Day’s rim. The shudder that rips its way through Kevin’s body is enough encouragement for Andrew to press past the tight opening. He kneads Kevin’s ass cheek with his other hand, pupils dilating when Kevin rocks back onto his finger and swallows him further.

“Gorgeous,” Neil sighs at the same time Andrew thinks it. The blonde glances at Neil from the corner of his eye to make sure Neil’s still obeying directions and only playing with the plug. So far, so good, and when Neil pulls the black base out of his ass to slide back on, Andrew thrusts a second slick finger into Kevin’s hole.

“Fuck,” Kevin breathes. “More, I can take more.”

“I know you can,” Andrew says. He crooks the middle finger that’s in Kevin’s ass just until Kevin’s moaning again. “You’ll go at my pace.”

Andrew can have the patience of a god when he tries. Much to the displeasure of Kevin and Neil when they’re at the receiving end of it. But Kevin’s not dismayed and accepts his fate like a champ, parting his legs further for Andrew to come closer and get a better angle.

“He’s so hard,” Neil murmurs as if in awe. His eyes are trained on Kevin’s cock hitting the base of his stomach every time Andrew fingers him a little deeper. “Can I suck him?”

“Shit,” Kevin curses at the question. Probably already regretting coming up with the idea to just let Neil watch rather than join. Andrew hums on their behalf.

“After I fuck him,” Andrew decides. “Neil, fuck yourself on the plug. Stop if it gets too much.”

There’s that word again, rattling in Neil’s mouth. It’s something he’s felt before, but never so strongly. He bites his tongue to suppress it and does as Andrew says. The plug leaves him with an obscene _pop_ , and he lets the silicone fill him up as much as possible. But it’s never enough. It barely even grazes his prostate, much less how Andrew or Kevin can fill him. Fuck, its excruciating.

Andrew’s turned back to Kevin. Already with a third finger inside and teasing Kevin’s hole with his pinkie, Kevin starts to plead with Andrew impatiently to hurry up and Andrew finally concedes. Even he has his limits too. Andrew’s own throbbing cock being one of them at the sight of Kevin so needy under him, Neil sprawled out like their next meal to their left.

Actually, that’s exactly what Neil is. And it’s with that ravaging thought that Andrew slides his cock home into Kevin’s ass, burning all the way through.

“Shit, shit. That’s it.” Kevin gasps a breath and rocks back, taking Andrew in further. Neil moans and Andrew can see their human’s gotten creative by pulling himself up on his knees to fall back onto the plug with each thrust. Technically, Andrew never said anything against it so he lets it slide, instead opting to drag Neil in for a kiss mixed with literal hunger. Neil is powerless to himself and Andrew to do anything but accept it all and more. Always, always craving more. He slides his tongue against Andrew’s in time with the blonde’s thrusts into Kevin. The sounds of skin slapping, breaths mingling, blood pumping all rise in one glorious crescendo until Andrew’s pulling out of Kevin’s ass, not wanting to come yet, and Kevin not too far behind.

Feeling Andrew suddenly tense so not to release, Neil disentangles himself from his—from Andrew and crawls under Day. Lips lapping up the pre-cum on Kevin’s head, Neil forgets about his own pleasure and focuses all his attention on Kevin’s. It’s no difficult feat to worship the man above him or the one behind him; it’s as part of his nature as is breathing, as is loving. As is living. 

“That’s it, that’s it, love, keep—“ Kevin cuts off and Neil feels him throb in Neil’s mouth seconds before his release. Neil moans at the sensation of hot cum filling his mouth and he’s quick to swallow as much as he can. It doesn’t taste good, Neil won’t lie. The salty tang is too bitter to enjoy, but it's the meaning of the act, the acceptance of each other body and soul that gets Neil going and scrambling to lick up up every last drop. Some has still managed to drip down his lips and onto his chin, and when Kevin pulls him up to kiss it all away, Neil knows he would’ve come right then and there if it weren’t for the cock ring. But Andrew said not to, so Neil can’t.

“And you call me dirty,” Neil groans. Kevin doesn’t respond in favor of fucking Neil’s mouth with his tongue, tasting himself on Neil. His fingers tease the base of Neil’s plug and Kevin fucks the silicone farther into Neil to drag a breathy moan out of the man.

“Take the ring off him, Kevin,” Andrew orders. He’s watching them with almost a bored expression but they know better. Especially if the sight of Andrew having to hold the base of his cock so not to come too soon is any reminder that Andrew is just as under their spell as they he.

“Mmm, gladly.” Kevin starts to reach for the silicone, but Neil stops him.

“You can’t.”

“Neil.” Andrew raises a brow. He has an abundance of patience, but not when his commands aren’t followed without a good reason. “What did I say?”

“Andrew, don’t…” Neil curls his hands protectively over his cock like he’s trying to hide it from them. Which is perhaps the most ridiculous thing Andrew’s ever seen Neil do, and damn that’s saying something. “I’m sorry, just. Not yet.”

Kevin kisses the base of Neil’s neck where the collarbone juts out. “We need to take it off anyway, darling. It can’t stay on long.”

_“No.”_

“Neil—“

Neil whines when Kevin’s hand moves to slide off the ring. “Don’t—just don’t be mad.”

Now a ting of worry is spiking through Andrew and he and Kevin exchange a look. “What’s wrong?” Kevin asks Neil gently. He reaches up instead to Neil’s shoulder and rubs the muscle tenderly. “You know we’d never be mad.”

“I…” Neil swallows and lowers his gaze, unable to make eye contact. He feels his cheeks flush in shame. “I’m so close,” he says so quietly it’s barely a whisper. “I can’t stop if you take it off. I’m sorry, I—”

That’s enough. “ _Neil_.” Andrew leans forward and cups Neil’s jaw in his hands. “The ring’s coming off. Now.”

“Andrew—“ he almost sounds like he’s going to cry, and Andrew can’t imagine all the endorphins and emotions raging in his head with the day he’s had. Neil’s ashamed tone breaks something loose in Andrew and Andrew can’t take it anymore, needing Neil to understand he should never, _ever_ feel ashamed about coming, about his pleasure, about being taken care of. He slides the ring off in one swipe and the half moan, half sob rips out of Neil at the same time he orgasms, no possible way on earth to stop, and he falls into Andrew and Kevin while they hold him through his release.

“Oh god,” Neil coughs weakly, eyes falling closed before he drags them open again. “I’m so sor—“

“Do not,” Andrew interrupts, “finish that sentence.”

Neil’s expression is crumbling once more until Kevin murmurs, “You’re beautiful.”

“What?”

Kevin places a long, loving kiss to Neil’s temple. “You look so beautiful when you come, pretty boy. You’re perfect.” He nibbles playfully on the corner of Neil’s jaw. “I could just eat you up.”

Neil snorts tiredly. “Funny.” But they don’t miss the lingering look of doubt on Neil’s face as if he doesn’t truly believe he didn’t fuck up and Andrew just can’t have that.

“It’s not a big deal, Neil—“

“Yes, it is,” Neil shakes his head. Though not at Andrew, but himself. “You said not-not to come until, until you fucked me. And you didn’t even get off.” Neil’s mouth twists and Kevin raises a brow, pulling Neil closer to them. “I’m a fucking—“

“You really do not want to finish that sentence either,” Andrew cuts in once more, eyes flaring scarlet. When they first found Neil, Neil struggled with his identity so much he often turned his own existence against himself. Attacking his own character, tearing himself down were commonplace, almost instinctive reactions for Neil for a long time. There’s no way Andrew or Kevin are letting him go back down that road, and he sometimes starts to slip into the old habit when he’s feeling guilty.

Neil hears the warning and closes his mouth, shuddering involuntarily. 

“Neil, that’s just things we say in the heat of the moment,” Kevin tries to reason. “You know we wouldn’t actually be mad at you for coming, right? This is about pleasure, your’s as much as our’s. Never just us. And edging is supposed to maximize your pleasure—if it’s not doing that, then there’s no reason to stick to it.” Kevin kisses Neil’s knuckles and Andrew’s thankful once again for Kevin’s communication skills, often world’s better than Andrew’s. He seems to be getting through slowly but surely to Neil, at least, who’s hanging onto to Kevin’s every word and breath like a sinner desperate for salvation. “Neil, feeling guilty because you feel good is the last thing we’d ever want. Does that make sense?”

Neil’s eyes brim with the emotion he’s only started to learn he’s allowed to feel ever since Andrew and Kevin stumbled upon him all that time ago. “Yes, sir,” he nods quietly. Kevin closes his eyes briefly at the address before enveloping Neil in such a tender kiss it’d confound vampire hunters for years. How could such a beast possess such unbridled gentleness, so sharp around the edges and yet so soft? Kevin would argue Andrew’s no different, but there’s a sort of softness Kevin has that Andrew doesn’t, _can’t_ have. Where Kevin’s the cotton to comfort your wound, Andrew’s the peroxide to clean you up and make you new. Just as vital for the other, just as separate.

And with the understanding washing over him like a new dawn, Andrew realizes why Neil is fixated on being his and Kevin’s blood-source. Neil needs to be made whole by being made new. And the only way to do that is to resurrect into yourself, not a different version of who you were never meant to be, but who you’re supposed to be.

_I’m your’s,_ Neil had said.

But they are just as much his.

“There is no shame,” Andrew tells Neil, “in your joy. Never apologize for it again.”

Neil starts to say something before shutting his mouth and simply nodding. Andrew will have to ask about it later, because they’re not finished and unless Neil safe words, Andrew doesn’t plan on stopping. If his suspicions are correct, and after Neil’s outburst, he’s certain Neil needs this as much as Kevin and Andrew.

“We’re going to feed now,” Andrew continues, and his suspicions are confirmed right when Neil’s eyes widen and a small, hopeful smile tugs at his lips. “Yes, Neil? Or no?”

“Yes,” Neil says, but he bites his lip. “But don’t you…” Andrew quirks a brow. “You’re still hard,” Neil murmurs like he can’t quite believe it after the conversation they had.

“Yes,” Andrew agrees and Kevin smirks, knowing damn well why. The blonde leans forward to kiss Neil’s jaw, Neil’s throat, humming at the rushing sound of Neil’s blood when Neil swallows. “The thought of feeding from you makes me hard.”

Neil’s gasp is worth everything and more. The two vampires can feel his shudder between them, causing Kevin to chuckle and making Andrew ache in the best way possible. If someone had told Andrew a century ago of the unthinkable emotion he’d feel over two people, Andrew would’ve snapped their head off. Literally. He went through a rough patch in the early ten’s. Nineteen ten’s.

“How, How should I…” Neil looks between them, lost but trusting he’ll be found.

“Sit in Kevin’s lap,” Andrew orders. “He’ll go first. I already had a taste.”

Neil shivers but does as told, pushing the bed sheet away to climb into Kevin’s arms, chest touching chest.

“Was I alright?” Neil wonders, sounding way too innocent and unsure than Andrew’s comfortable. He cards a hand through Neil’s hair and yanks his head back, earning a lovely yelp from the man until Neil’s eye level with Andrew.  
  
“Best I’ve had,” Andrew whispers before turning Neil back to Kevin. Neil visibly relaxes after the validation, knowing Andrew wouldn’t lie to him just to make him feel better.

“Kevin will have five seconds,” Andrew instructs, “to feed, and then he will stop. Yes?”

It’s one of the rules Andrew had decided earlier that morning before Neil’s accident. If the five seconds isn’t enough, they can always do another round. Better to be safe with shorter increments than sorry with longer.

Kevin nods immediately at Andrew’s words and runs his hands up and down Neil’s sides to keep him comfortable. “Yes. And Neil, punch my shoulder or wave your hand if you want me to stop.” At Neil’s quick nod, Kevin puts his thumb on Neil’s chin and gives him a grave look. “I’m serious, love. We won’t be mad. I’ll be proud of you, even, for being that brave.”

Neil digests this slower, more carefully, before breaking out into a smile that rivals Versailles. “I love you,” he says so sincerely, so unabashed, Andrew knows he could hang the moon a hundred twice over and never come close to deserving Neil. But he’ll never stop working his best to get there, that’s for damn sure. “Both of you. So much it hurts.”

Kevin’s blinding grin in return makes Andrew hurt too, so he leans his forehead against Neil’s shoulder blade and breathes him in, all man and more. “That’s the good kind of love,” Kevin murmurs. “You hold on to that pain because you know it’s worth keeping.”

Neil sighs into Kevin’s kiss then, puzzle pieces constantly finding their way home. “Feed from me, Kev. I’m ready.”

Kevin nods and, with a final shared look with Andrew that communicates more emotion than Noah could fit life in his ark, releases his fangs for Neil to see before the bite. Kevin’s hand trails up Neil’s arm to the healing wrist. By tomorrow even the scab will barely be a bruise, and by the next day, completely gone. Kevin places another tender kiss as soft as a caress on the area, the smooth slide of his fangs pressing, but not puncturing yet, onto the skin.

“Five seconds,” he reminds Andrew as if the latter could forget, before whispering a promise of love in French that has Neil closing his eyes, too full of emotion, the second Kevin’s fangs pierce the tender flesh under Neil’s collarbone.

_“Oh—“_ Neil freezes on an inhale, muscles clenching, breath stopping. They warned him the first handful of times is always the worst in an unfamiliar way, the human body unused to such an invasive act until, well, its used to it. When Andrew had bit him earlier that day, Neil was too overcome by the pain of being impaled he barely recognized the teeth around his wrist. And even then, it was truly more of a bite, just enough pressure to release the saliva that would kick in regenerative antibodies to heal Neil’s wound.

But this…this is more than a bite. It’s a taking. It’s a giving. It’s an offering. Kevin’s not only inside Neil, he’s drinking, he’s _feeding_ on Neil’s own life source and using it for his own.

It’s more fulfilling than Neil ever thought sacrifice could be.

Being taken apart in such a way…

He’s never felt more whole.

_“Five,”_ Andrew says and Kevin’s fangs retract immediately. His tongue lingers on the two parallel punctures, lapping at the skin until they heal over and no longer bleed.

“Holy fuck,” Kevin grunts.

Neil agrees. He wants to do it again. And again. And again. For the rest of his life, for as ever long as they’ll have him. For ever and after that, hopefully.

He swallows down more emotion and lays his head against Kevin’s forehead, curling his fingers around the other man’s neck. “That was…I don’t have words. I wan’t to feel like that the rest of my life.”

Andrew scoffs lightly behind him where he’s checking Neil for any sign of discomfort or unease. Finding none (because there’s not a trace), Andrew can only say, “Junkie,” and leave Neil and Kevin to chuckle in their embrace.

“You taste like cherries,” Kevin says and Neil blinks before falling into laughter again. If Andrew could inscribe that sound on his body, he’d grab the nearest tattoo gun and do it himself.

“Andrew’s turn,” Kevin says when they’ve sobered, patting Neil’s side in a silent command for Neil to sit up and move towards the other man. “As long as you’re up for it.”

“Do you ever listen?” Neil gripes. “I _just_ said I never want to stop doing this.”  
  
Andrew pulls Neil into his lap while Neil and Kevin continue to playfully bicker. He takes his time drinking in the sight of Neil, the parts of Neil that Neil only lets Kevin and Andrew see. His softer expression, not so jaded anymore. Scars from head to toe, and couldn’t be more beautiful and perfect and _Neil_. He wants to remember this moment for the rest of his years, however long or short that may be. Neil was right when he said he wasn’t guaranteed tomorrow, but neither are Andrew and Kevin. Undead doesn’t mean immune to more death, and Andrew’s decided they’ve wasted enough time pretending different. From now on, they’re as bare as they can be with each other, as whole and true. Neil is theirs’ and they are Neil’s.

For as long as they’ll live to be.

“Your turn,” Neil says to Andrew when he finally quits his play-fight with Kevin. He does something then that Andrew isn’t used to seeing; he smiles but its shy, unsure in a hopeful way. The room feels more charged than usual with how serious Neil suddenly gets as he meets Andrew’s eyes. Neil starts to say something but stops again.

“Five seconds,” Andrew repeats more for himself than Neil, and Neil snorts.

“I can let six slide,” he jokes. Andrew pinches him.

“Five, junkie. Kevin, count.”

That’s all the warning there is. Maybe if he’d given Neil one extra second, a half a second, of foresight, Neil would’ve been able to stop himself like he’d been doing all night. But just like earlier when he couldn’t possibly control his release, Neil is hopeless from keeping himself from saying the one thing that’s been pushing at his lips, his mind, his soul.

Andrew’s fangs sink into Neil’s neck and Neil fully body shudders.

_“Master.”_

Crimson bursts in Andrew’s vision, never mind just his pupils. The rush of blood that fills his mouth is better than any orgasm he’s experienced. Its Neil in his throat, its Neil in his lungs, its Neil in his cold, dead, dormant heart resurrecting new life of the likes Andrew never would have thought he’d have. The word rings like church bells in Andrew’s mind and by the time Kevin’s saying, “Five,” Andrew wonders if he’ll ever need to drink again, so full and fulfilled as he is.

“Say it again,” Andrew rasps. He knows full well there’s blood trailing down his chin but he cares about it as much as Neil, which is to say, not at all.

“Master,” Neil groans, chest rising heavily as he clings to Andrew’s shoulders, overcome with need. “Master, master, master…”

He’s rambling now, lost in the Found. Andrew lays Neil back against the bed, shaking with the restraint of not taking Neil right then and there. _“Neil.”_

Kevin’s jaw has fallen slack, cheeks flushed with the thrill of new blood and the word coming out of Neil’s mouth. “Holy… _fuuuuuuuuuck_.”

That’s exactly what seems to be on Neil’s mind, because his hands are reaching for Andrew, tugging at Andrew’s waist desperately and repeating the title like an unanswered prayer.

“God, look at him,” Kevin murmurs, pushing Neil’s hair back from his forehead. “Tell us what you need, love.”

“ _Andrew_ ,” Neil breaks out. “Andrew, master, I need—“

He’s near sobbing again, and Kevin’s quick to kiss Neil’s cheek before reaching for the lube to hand Andrew. “Give him what he needs,” Kevin says gently, too full of love and trust for Andrew to properly function for a few seconds. Neil’s shaking under them pulls him back though, and he accepts the lube to quickly pour onto his hands, kissing Kevin at the same time he shoves two fingers into Neil.

Already mostly prepped from the plug, it doesn’t take nearly any time before Andrew’s worked three fingers in and ready for more. With one last frantic plea from Neil, Andrew removes his fingers and grips the base of his cock to slide in. He pushes past the tightest part of Neil’s opening and with a few more thrusts he’s fully seated, leaving Neil to shudder beautifully before pushing back onto Andrew as if he could take more despite Andrew being fully inside.

“Junkie,” he whispers fondly before pulling back out until the head of his cock is teasing Neil’s hole, then ramming back in with as much force is needed to make Neil understand he’s _theirs_ ’, and their _his_ , and they’ll always be whatever Neil needs them to be, for as long as they all shall live. Amen.

“More,” Neil begs and Andrew supplies. He fucks Neil past the act itself, all the way into the mind and bloodstream. Kevin whispers sweet somethings to them both, alternating between open mouthed kisses to Andrew’s chest to small caresses to Neil’s face and throat. It’s love-making in its most brutal form, defenseless and vulnerable and bare. None of them would have it any other way.

Andrew pushes Neil’s knee higher to angle himself better. He kisses Kevin sloppily and doesn’t bother with formalities when he orders Kevin to jerk Neil off, who’s already so close. Whether from the rush of new blood cells regenerating or the emotional storm that’s overcome Neil, Neil’s recovery time deserves a medal. Andrew himself’s not too far off, still hard and aching from earlier. His thrusts become more erratic until he feels his muscles clenching on the edge of surrender. He breaks his kiss with Kevin and at the sight of the man replacing his hand with his mouth to suck Neil dry, Andrew loses it completely. He pumps his release into Neil and fucks the come deeper into Neil’s ass to the sound of Neil crying out, grasping at Kevin for a tether.

Andrew doesn’t pull out right away. Rather, he lets his softening cock keep Neil filled until Neil’s shaking, too strung up to feel anything but Andrew and the hot mouth around his base. Kevin pulls off Neil's cock just long enough to say, “Come for us, darling,” and Neil’s gone. Andrew watches through a haze at the sight of Neil’s abs clenching, back arching off the bed as he lets go again, his climax shooting down Kevin’s throat.

When Neil starts shaking from overstimulation, Kevin pulls off and kisses Neil’s forehead, whispering the sort of praise and affection to Neil that Andrew knows he’s a lucky man to witness. It moves Andrew to mercy and he lets his cock slide out of Neil. The sight of come dripping from Neil’s hole is almost enough for Andrew to lose his mind all over again, so he starts to force himself off the bed to get a towel. If he were still alive he’d grab cigarette or four. But the problem with being an undead being is that he’s also highly flammable. For all his gripes and hyperbole, Andrew’s not quite ready to smoke himself to ash. Literally.

“I’ll get it,” Kevin murmurs softly when he sees Andrew moving to leave. He’s rubbing Neil’s shoulders and peppering light, open mouthed kisses to every available inch of skin he can reach while Neil comes down from the high he’s riding. “He needs you right now.”

Andrew doesn’t argue. He waits for Kevin to stand up before taking his place, pulling Neil against his chest and wiping the sweat off Neil’s face. “Junkie,” he says, “Don’t die on me.”

Neil snorts and nuzzles his face into Andrew’s skin. “Maybe you’ll just have to turn me if that’s what you want.”

“Hm.” Andrew doesn’t really deem his statement a response yet. His attention is glued on what Neil had called Andrew earlier, voiced like a sacrifice before god.

_Master_.

Andrew isn’t blind to the more formal relationships some vampires keep with their blood-sources. Some in the north even go as far as collaring their’s blood-sources as if they were pets or…worse. There’s really no delicate way of putting it. It’s long held tradition, a millennia old, that vampires are above their human counterparts in more ways than one. Not that that makes it right. Andrew, ever the optimist, believes they’re all equally a waste of space, humans and vampires both. Though that opinion doesn’t get him far in many circles, living nor undead.

From the day they met Neil and got him off the streets, Andrew and Kevin made it abundantly clear Neil didn’t owe them anything. They weren’t looking for someone to parade around like an obedient dog or own like a goddamn piece of furniture. Kevin himself had a past all too close to that, and it literally made him sick to think about doing that to someone else.

“Neil,” Andrew finds himself saying. These things eat at him until he’s undone them like puzzles. “You know you do not have to call me that.”

He doesn’t have to clarify what he’s talking about, of course. Neil sighs where he lays against Andrew before shrugging. Up-down. “Yeah. I know.”

Andrew studies him, lost.

“God, you’re thick,” Neil mutters. He hits Andrew’s chest. “I wanted to. I won’t again if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“ _No_.” No, that’s not what Andrew wants. Neil hears the lights of strain in his tone underneath the attempt to remain stoic and Neil grins. “So you liked when I called you it?” He pauses, lips pressed against each other before whispering the damned word. “ _Master_.”

Andrew exhales a breath and pulls Neil in for a kiss so he doesn’t have to bother responding. “Don’t get used to it, though,” Neil says when he pulls back to breathe. “I can’t have you spoiled, now.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“I am,” Neil agrees. “Once you turn me, maybe I’ll think about being more generous, Maaaa…Andrew,” he finishes with a cheeky smirk.

“That’s not how that works,” Kevin chuckles from the doorway leading into their master bathroom. He’s grabbed a towel and a small tupperware of finger snacks for Neil to get some energy back. No doubt their human will crash for half a day or more with everything that’s occurred. First the injury, then the feeding, then the sex…it’s tiring just for Kevin to think about, and he doesn’t even _get_ tired.

“Why not?” Neil returns. He leans up to accept the food and lets Kevin wipe him down with the towel. “I’m not talking about right now, just…” He shrugs and pops a piece of cheddar cheese in his mouth. He finishes chewing before saying, “One day, you know? I want…well, I don’t want to grow up without you guys.”

Kevin’s hand stills against Neil’s thigh and he and Andrew exchange a look.

“We can’t have you getting wrinkles, now,” Andrew says. Kevin slaps his shoulder lightly but Neil just huffs.

“I’m serious.”

“Never said you weren’t,” Kevin returns. His brows crinkle as thinks it over and throws the towel into the corner of the room to pick up later. “But if that’s what you want…then yeah. One day it is.”

Neil hums around a mouthful of pretzel. His smirk is laced with vinegar. “If you keep me around that long.”

“Neil,” Andrew sighs. He steals an m&m from the small pile of trail mix in the container.

“If we have to spend every day reminding you that we do, in fact, plan on keeping you forever,” Kevin says, “then we will spend forever reminding you that. Gladly.”

Neil snorts but his shoulders relax visibly. “Andrew’s never glad.”

“He can suck it up.” Kevin laughs when Andrew returns the slap. “Oh, bastard.”

When Neil finishes his snack, Andrew moves the container to the nightstand and urges them both to a stand. He checks Neil for any lightheadedness or nausea, possible effects from the feeding, but Neil shakes his head and assures he’s fine.

“We need to ban that word,” Kevin muses with a raised eyebrow. “I can never tell when you mean it or not.”

Neil grins. “Bite me again and I’ll show you just how fine I am.”

Andrew groans under his breath and drags Neil to the bathroom for a quick shower, Neil laughing wickedly the whole way. Good to see he’s obviously recovering from the morning enough to joke like that, Andrew thinks sarcastically. Kevin joins them under the spray a minute later and wraps his arms around Neil’s chest where the latter stands sandwiched between he and Andrew.

“Remember to take the antibiotics Aaron gave you before you sleep,” Kevin reminds Neil while he lathers a handful of soap.

“My wrist really is fine, though.”

“Didn’t ask,” Andrew says. At his immovable expression, Neil relents.

“I do know how to keep myself alive, you know,” he mutters.

Kevin blinks. “Is memory loss a side effect of almost dying?” He asks Andrew, voice completely serious. “Because he’s already forgotten how he absolutely could do no such thing this morning.” Andrew turns his face away but Neil catches the cough of humor.

“Assholes,” Neil says, and then yelling it again for emphasis when Andrew turns the shower spray all the way cold. He yelps, jumping out of the walk in shower and almost slipping on the marble floor in his retreat.

“I will not call Aaron if you break your leg,” Andrew warns. He turns the shower off when Kevin’s done rinsing and grabs another towel for himself. “You can try living with that.”

Neil shakes his head, water drops flying. “You’re the worst liar I know, Andrew.”

Andrew’s irises flare ruby and Kevin hums in agreement.

Neil’s never been more in love.

They check his wrist one last time before Neil crashes on their bed. He has to physically kick Kevin away when Kevin won’t stop fretting about the bruises forming around the scab. “What if he’s burst too many capillaries, Andrew? This doesn’t look good. Maybe we should ice it—“

“I’ll ice your face if you don’t leave me alone,” Neil cuts in. “Let me sleep, dude.”

Kevin sighs insufferably. But he lets it drop and kisses Neil one more time, scoffing at Neil’s annoyed yet amused smirk. “I’m just making sure.”

“I know,” Neil says. He means it. “But I can take care of it myself.”

Andrew leans against the bedroom doorway and crosses his arms, ready to give Neil space to sleep. He and Kevin will check in periodically throughout the day but let Neil rest as is. “You can,” he agrees. “The point is you do not have to do so alone.”

That shuts Neil up as effectively as a kiss, and Neil nods slowly while he lays down to get comfortable. Baby steps, he thinks. He almost died that day. Wack. Then Andrew and Kevin literally brought him back to life, in more ways than one. Why push this issue when Andrew has a point? One of the greatest benefits of having Andrew and Kevin in his life is that Neil doesn’t have to be alone. Neil wonders what the day will be like when they turn him. When they keep him forever, as he is, without a return policy even. Will he have to be on the brink of death for that to happen too?

Neil huffs to himself. If so, he’d go through hell and back in a heartbeat in exchange to live the rest of his existence with those two disasters. No question about it. None at all.

“Night, Neil,” Kevin says, joining Andrew at the doorway and slipping his hand into the blonde’s.

“It’s three p-m,” Neil corrects.

Kevin sighs. “Night, smartass.”

“Try again, pain in the ass.”

Kevin scratches his jaw. “Good luck with those dreams tonight.”

Neil shoots up in bed, but Andrew’s already slamming the door shut. The sound of Kevin’s laughter echoes in the hallway. “Wait! Can you control my dreams?” Neil calls, horror dawning. He knew his dreams had calmed a lot more since he’d been with them, but…“Kevin! Get your ass back here. You told me that’s a myth!” He slides out of bed and scrambles to the door.

It’s locked from the outside.

He didn’t even know that that’s _possible_.

“Damn you,” Neil calls, rattling the doorway. “Stay out of my head!”

“Sweet dreams, bitch!” Kevin calls from somewhere on the second floor.

Neil groans and leans against the door, laughing despite himself. “Love you too,” he whispers.

He knows they hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked this, i would so so so appreciate it if u checked out my much more serious, kandreil dark academic fic, "this is the way the world ends" if u want!! its just past 100k words and still ongoing!
> 
> u can holler at me on tumblr @ravens-play-exy-too, i holler back :DD


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